A Moment of Fear
by toomanycurls
Summary: Inspired by the Litany against Fear from Frank Herbert's Dune, this series of short stories examines moments of fear for key actors during the first wizarding war.
1. Lily

I must not fear

-Frank Herbert, _Litany against Fear_

Flattening her white dress, Lily sat in front of her mirror feeling anxious and joyous. She could hear the noises of last minute preparations and people getting ready in the rooms adjoining her's. She was alone in the bridal suite at a nice manor the Potters rented out for the occasion. Out the window she could see rolling green hills with little trees and a creek. Lily loved the picturesque backdrop to her special day.

Lily's attention turned to a note that had been left on her vanity. Her hands shook as she read the message from her sister. Only Petunia could make her cry on her wedding day. The phrases "_will not be attending_" and "_freak husband_" stung the young bride. She held in a quiet whimper as she set the letter down. Lily was afraid that her relationship with Petunia was past the point of repair.

Of course, Lily knew why her sister would not come. It wasn't just the number of witches and wizards that kept her older sister away. At their mum's insistence, James and Lily attended Petunia and Vernon's wedding the previous summer. To say it did not go well would be an understatement. James got in an argument with Vernon and pulled out his wand in anger. It had been after several drinks and many harsh words about the nonconventional lifestyle Lily led. That had been his code for using magic. In his temper, James' wand emitted sparks that had quite frightened Vernon. Lily had not seen her sister since.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. She was happy, ecstatic even, but her day was tainted by the war's ominous gloom that had infiltrated every other aspect of Lily's life. It hadn't been more than a week since the latest murder of an Order member. It was hard to be merry while the world was suffering and people around them were being killed at an alarming rate. James and Lily had narrowly escaped from a close call with Voldemort not too long before they were engaged.

Lily's mind drifted to the Voldemort's attempt to recruit them to his side. The memory caused a smirk to grace her face. It had been a terrifying experience that they survived with a combination of skill and luck. The humor came when they had told Sirius, Remus, and Peter about the botched recruitment. Sirius asked if his next target had been Dumbledore as there were few wizards less likely to join his cause than those in the Order. That was how they got past all the close calls and almost fatal encounters – they laughed about it over a flagon of mulled mead.

A barking laugh from the hallway brought Lily back to the moment. How could she worry about Voldemort on her wedding day? Closing her eyes for a moment, Lily attempted to clear her mind. She wasn't going to let Petunia's rejection or the worries of the war they were entrenched in to overshadow her happy day. Once the darkness was gone from her mind's eye, she began to focus on her wedding, her marriage, and her soon-to-be husband. That is where Lily knew she'd find solace.

Except, she didn't.

As Lily began to think about what the day represented she was overwhelmed with a sense of fear that was quite disconnected from the worries she had just vanquished. What was it that was causing Lily's stomach to tighten uncomfortably? She loved James and was excited to be married to him. They had high hopes for their life that included children and large family parties. Her future with James was everything she had dreamt of since her thoughts first wandered to marriage. Why was her wedding making Lily's heart so heavy? She thought back to the night James proposed to Lily some months before, when she felt the first stirrings of this fear.

"_I don't want to live under a cauldron because of the war or because we're in danger, Lily," James said pacing the living room of his flat. _

_Lily was seated on the couch watching his face with an intensity she showed when trying to solve a complex problem. "We're not living under a cauldron, James, we're being careful. The other night, when he tried to recruit us –" _

"_Exactly. We don't know what will happen from day to day but I do know I will love you until my last day." James' voice trembled slightly as he continued, "If that's tomorrow or 60 years from now, I'll love you, Lily." James stopped in front of Lily and bent a knee to the floor. "I want to spend the rest of my life as your husband, if you'll consent to be my wife." James reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small box. Lily's heart began to race. "Lily Evans, will you marry me?" _

_For the first time in their relationship, Lily did not have a snappy response or a quick reproach for James. Instead she answered him with a quiet, "Yes, James, I will marry you," and slipped the small ring on her finger before kissing her dark-haired fiancé. _

That was when it started. It wasn't uncertainty of James being the right man, a doubt of his love, or her love for that matter. This was a promise that could not be unmade. She did not see her love wavering in the foreseeable future, but what about the unforeseeable future? Would their love stand the test of time or would it wither in 15 years? Had their love grown organically or because of extraneous stress that pushed them together? Lily had said yes and meant it with all her heart but that did not eradicate her anxiety.

A small knock at the door interrupted Lily's thoughts. "Dear," her mum's voice came, "They're just about ready for you." Mrs. Evans walked into the bridal suite her daughter had been using to prepare. When she saw Lily's unusually pale face, Mrs. Evans shut the door behind her. "Are you feeling well, darling?"

Mrs. Evans walked toward Lily and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Mum. I'm just…"

"Nervous?" Mrs. Evans offered. "I was terrified the day I married your dad. We were just around your age too. I didn't know what I was getting into really," she said with a kind smile to her daughter.

"Oh, Mum, how did you know that you would love Dad for the next 30 or even 5 years?" Lily asked looking up into her mum's kind eyes.

Mrs. Evans pulled a chair over sat down next to her youngest child. "I couldn't have known," she said frankly. "Love isn't meant to stay the same throughout a marriage. It changes day to day and year to year. Can you imagine if James loved you the same way he did when you were in school? He'd still be putting frog guts in your pumpkin juice." Lily laughed feeling a bit of weight lift off her shoulders.

Smiling and feeling more at ease, Lily kissed her mum on the cheek. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Nothing comes freer than a mother's advice," Mrs. Evans said standing up. "I would have been worried if you weren't at least a little scared before your wedding."

The door opened and Mr. Evans stepped into the room with his hands over his eyes. "Are you decent, Lily?"

"Of course she is, Harold," Mrs. Evans said with a hint of exasperation. With a smile at her daughter, Mrs. Evans moved towards the door. "I had better go line up for the processional. Your friend Remus is escorting me."

Lily checked her reflection once more before getting up and moving towards her father. Taking his steadying arm she smiled her bravest smile and let love and joy wash over her. She must not fear on her wedding day.

A/N: Hi! This series focuses on moments of fear for people in the first wizarding war. In this chapter I tried to dig into fear associated with marriage. I definitely didn't want to make it sound like Lily wasn't sure about James but that her fear about the larger idea of marriage. Next chapter will be James.


	2. James

Fear is the mind-killer.

Frank Herbert – Litany against Fear

Condensation clung to the glass of pumpkin juice James was slowly sipping. A moody silence fell between the two men. The perch they were seated on overlooked a playground where there were several children running about. James' eyes were unfocused as he looked toward the laughing kids. "Knarl got your tongue?" Sirius asked his messy-haired friend.

James traced a finger through the moisture on his glass. In a quiet voice James answered, "I'm scared, Padfoot."

During their formidable years this remark would have been met with ridicule and weeks of goading. Now the two men were entangled in a war with much more at stake than their lives – fear was commonplace. "Prongs, you and Lily will be fine. Better than fine, you're heroes. You're already famous for escaping Voldemort, what is it, three times?"

James tried to smile but couldn't quite master the facial expression. "It's not the war... I'm scared to become a dad," he said not meeting his friend's eyes.

It was a mere month before Lily was due to give birth. James wanted a child, several in fact, but that did not change the fear he felt at the responsibility of fatherhood being set on his shoulders. Loving Lily was easy for him, second nature even. But she did not rely on him for her every need. A baby on the other hand would require everything of James and he was not sure how much he had to offer.

Sirius was slightly out of his element with this line of discussion. He had comforted many people, mainly women, about the distress they felt about the war and danger they all lived in. He did not have words or even a basic understanding of what it would be like to face parenthood. Shifting slightly in his chair Sirius started what he hoped were words of comfort, "It's not a light task, bringing a little person into the world. Especially once you consider the additional danger you're in all the time. It _won't_ be the same fighting evil with an infant in tow. You can hardly strap him to the back of your broom and charge off into the night to duel some ugly death eater. It might give the poor kid nightmares"

"Maybe it'd be good training for the little guy," James said with a slight smile. "You could teach him to ride that motorcycle you love so much."

Sirius let out a short, sharp laugh. "Got to make sure your kid knows how to raise hell. You'll have someone to carry on your legacy." James raised his eyebrows. "Sneaking out, playing quidditch, all that fun we had except he'll have more."

James could tell that Sirius was trying to change the mood but a few laughs did not remove the burden that was threatening to devour James. "Rabble-rousing will be as natural to my son as flying is to a hippogriff," James paused and took a sip of his juice. "It's not my son's troublemaking I'm worried about, mate."

Before either could continue, the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of Remus and Peter. They were having a whispered argument about security. "There should be two people outside the Longbottom household," Remus said in a hushed voice. "They need the extra security with the-" Remus stopped talking when he saw the somber expression on James' face and the slightly lost look Sirius wore.

"You're both very quiet," Peter said with a laugh. "Not discussing anything secretive, I hope."

"Oh, you and Moony were talking about our publically announced mission to protect people from Voldemort?" Sirius said with a sardonic note to his voice. "Have a seat, you two, we need to talk Prongs here off the ledge." Feeling grateful that he would not have to bear the burden of comforting his friend's parental anxiety, Sirius summoned more pumpkin juice and two chairs.

Remus and Peter took a seat with James and Sirius on the patio. Shooting a sideways glance at Sirius, Remus asked, "What ledge are we talking Prongs off today?"

"We couldn't talk him off the marriage ledge. He jumped right off that one," Peter added with a grin that did not match the other's mood. A momentary look of annoyance passed over Sirius' face.

"It's… It's nothing," James said avoiding Remus' inquiring eyes.

"James," Remus started in his official prefect tone, "The last time you said it was 'nothing' you had set fire to the quidditch locker room." Sirius smirked of the memory and Peter let out a squeak of a laugh. "You haven't set the baby's room ablaze, have you?"

Finally cracking a smile, James decided he could confide in his closest friends. "It is the baby, actually." Remus looked slightly alarmed as if expecting to hear that he had set some part of the house on fire. "I'm scared I won't be a good father." James' eyes stung suddenly as he felt the worst thing that could have happened in front of his friends, tears.

Sighing deeply Peter offered his advice, "With the war and You-Know-Who about, it can't be easy to start a family." Taking a sip of his beverage, Peter continued, "The danger you and Lily are facing is enough to make parenthood daunting."

Putting his head in his hands and shaking his head slightly, James said, "It's not Voldemort or the danger."

"Are you going to hold out for us to guess?" Sirius finally asked feeling that James had drug this out quite long enough.

"It's fatherhood. I'll be a bleeding parent!" James looked slightly alarmed at his own proclamation. "My parents were parents but I'm just me." James stopped talking for a moment. He hadn't spoken of his parents often after they died; mentioning them casually was anything but easy. "This child will need my advice one day," James' voice shook. "I'll need to be a source of guidance and courage. Merlin, he'll come to me when he's hurt and scared." James felt the weight of his upcoming responsibility tighten his shoulders.

Sirius looked quite helpless and Peter mouthed wordlessly. "Being a parent _is_ a big deal, Prongs," Remus said in a reassuring voice. "You're right though. No one is ever prepared to take that step but they manage once it's there."

"You'll have a little tyke to take care of but you have friends and family to help out," Sirius offered feeling relief that the heavy emotional lifting was handled by Remus. "I can teach your kid to charm the witches, Remus will make sure he is decent at spells, and Peter will tell him where to hide sweets in his dorm at Hogwarts. You and Lily will keep him from blowing up that aunt of his," Sirius smiled hopefully at his friends. Peter was avoiding the conversation by sipping from his drink during each lull in the conversation.

The four friends had faced a lot together. They had broken more laws than any of them bothered to track, except perhaps Remus, and most importantly they always helped each other out. Remus had tested their friendship first by keeping his lycanthropy a secret. Peter's trial had been getting through difficult fourth year exams. Sirius, who had seemed above the petty troubles of others had needed room and board and people who accepted his presence when his family kicked him out. While James had tried his friends' patience while he pursued Lily, he hadn't quite needed their help in the same way.

That was until now.

James still looked hopeless and a bit lost. Remus took in a deep breath as if about to dive into a deep lake full of angry merpeople. "You can't let this fear cloud your mind, Prongs," Remus paused as James' face darkened at his words. "Let me finish," Remus said hastily. "If you start being a dad who is full of fear, you won't have a clear mind or heart to love him," Remus paused to dig deep for the right words. "There are parts of your new life that will be terrifying but I know you'll face it with the same bravery you've used to face problems before. The difference is now it will be a little you who will adore you"

A few moments silence passed on the porch. It was getting late in the afternoon but the sun still lingered in the sky. James felt small amount of relief at his friend's words. Looking around at the three of them James smiled feeling a small surge of confidence. "You'll all really be there?" James asked ruffling his hair. "No matter what?"

Sirius laughed leaning back in his chair. "Well, I might not be there for the dirty nappies." Finally Sirius' humor hit the James the right way and they both grinned. "I'm a Black, I don't change nappies." Peter snorted into his glass and Remus rolled his eyes. James saw that his friends would get him through fatherhood like they had gotten through school – together.

Weeks later when Lily was in labor, James paced the waiting room at St. Mungo's with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. It had been several hours and James was white in the face. He wanted to be there, in the room, with his wife but the healers would not let him in. When the healer-in-training's words of, "You can see them now, Mr. Potter," James smiled at his friends who were suddenly alert and tense.

Taking a calming breath James walked towards the delivery room to meet his son feeling his mind and heart racing with anticipation rather than fear. As James pushed the door open and stepped into the room, Sirius, Peter, and Remus caught glimpses of the new family. First the healer handed the bundled baby to James, then James kissed Lily on the forehead, and finally he looked out the swinging door towards he friends and grinned.

A/N: Hi! This chapter was fun to write. I thought it'd be interesting to peek at how James could have felt about being a father. Similar to Lily's moment of fear, his wasn't meant to be about the war or Voldemort – it was the actual monumental step he was taking in life. I meant there to be a sense of irony and sadness in the relationship between the four friends (as it is coming to a fast end in the HP series). Let me know what you think! Was this a good point in time to examine James' fear?


	3. Voldemort

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

-Frank Herbert

The moon's light shone in the otherwise dark sitting room where Voldemort was alone in quiet solitude. Slowly swirling the crimson merlot in its glass, the Dark Lord reflected on his recent successes. He was close to taking over the wizarding world. Victory was so close that he could smell it.

A flicker of emotion passed through Voldemort's mind. _Was it excitement?_ _Perhaps it was pleasure with the recent deaths his loyal followers had carried out. _The Prewitt boys had been glorious deaths. It was too bad the foolish mudblood-lovers would not consider fighting for the right side. It was a shame to see purebloods fight against their own kind. That Fenwick traitor was a death Voldemort would remember for quite some time. It was the first murder Bellatrix and the werewolf Greyback had carried out together. It was spectacularly gruesome and beautiful. Voldemort made a note to pair the two of them again.

Voldemort took a slow sip of the rich wine. _This isn't happiness. _Voldemort couldn't stand that pestilential, weak emotion. It was accomplishment that he felt_._ Memories of the McKinnon massacre caused the corners of his mouth to twitch. An entire family gone in a fell swoop of his best death eaters. It almost made Voldemort feel sentimental for his violently brilliant supporters. The Daily Prophet used words like "heinous" and "unspeakable devastation" to describe the McKinnon murders. He could not imagine higher praise for the handiwork that was displayed. It was almost as if the newspaper was encouraging to further atrocities. Soon enough, they would.

The network of spies and well-placed puppets gave Voldemort enough information and power to control almost every aspect of the Ministry of Magic. Still, the fools still resisted his power. More defectors were trying to gain his favor now that the general populous started to sense where power in the magical world truly lay. The Order of the Phoenix, that soon-to-be-eradicated bunch of mudbloods and traitors, were the last source of true defiance. Yet he did have both a spy and a well-placed puppet in their floundering organization.

It had been with a sense of victory that the first turncoat sought out Voldemort's protection in exchange for information and loyalty. Being no one's fool, Voldemort did not trust Pettigrew or his professed fealty. It is, as they say, impossible to take poison out of a potion. Most of the information Pettigrew had passed was quite useless, as was the man himself. It was clear to Voldemort that the Order did not trust the cowering man with difficult tasks or important information. That had been the reason he wound up involved with Voldemort. Torturing the truth out of him had been an unexpected delight – Voldemort had not expected so much pain and misery from one so otherwise uninteresting.

"_Crucio," Voldemort said softly to better appreciate the screams echoing through the room. Jeers and cat calls from his masked followers followed each shriek from the small man. There were only a handful death eaters present for this man's defection Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan. _

_Lifting the curse Voldemort gave the whimpering man a few moments before raising his wand to start again. He liked giving people a fleeting reprieve before sending them back to a state of agony. "Wait, wait – I, I have information," Pettigrew tried to get out. _

_The information did not matter. The Dark Lord knew he'd get the information eventually. It was the pain that mattered._

_When he'd had his fill of the screams and pleas, Voldemort decided he could inquire about the man's purpose in seeking out such a dangerous meeting. Once again, Pettigrew made the blunder of trying to explain. "Please, My Lord," he started breathlessly. "I've come to pledge-"_

"_Silence," Voldemort said with a sharp and irritable tone. "I do not need your words – just your mind." Waving his wand, the Dark Lord forced the trembling man to his feet. "Just your thoughts…"_

_Voldemort could see Pettigrew's eyes widen with fear as he approached with his wand pointed toward the diminutive man. Slowly his dark pupils flooded with images and feelings from the man's pathetic existence. This was the part where most professed spies fell short of their verbal proclamations of a changed heart. _

_The images that met Voldemort's probe were ones of taunting and teasing. The man had been treated like a burden to his better skilled friends. Laughed at and looked down upon – this was a person who never felt he had a chance to show his worth. What was this man's worth? Voldemort pressed into his mind further and saw who he was connected to – trusted by those the Dark Lord was trying to squelch. An insider to the group he had been unable to wheedle into. Pettigrew could be an asset… _

Disappointingly, Pettigrew had offered little information _of value_ to the Dark Lord to date. He did give them details of how the Order operated and where some of the less important members lived. The information the Voldemort really wanted though, whereabouts of those troublesome Potters, still eluded him. Voldemort had considered but dismissed the idea of petitioning Pettigrew for information. Questions in and of themselves revealed too many answers. The Dark Lord let a frown mar his face.

_The Potters. _

The family that was his greatest threat _if_, there were days where Voldemort chose not to believe, that prophecy was credible. How could that infant be anything more than another body to add to the count? The boy's parents had been noteworthy before they imprudently turned down an offer to join the right side. Did their stubborn refusal to fight with Voldemort rather than against make their son special? It was close to absurd.

Despite his own incredulity at the words Severus had passed to him one frantic night so long ago, the mere idea that there _could be_ a wizard to match his own power was at best uncomfortable. The stirring Voldemort had when the prophecy came to mind was something more than uneasy thoughts.

Voldemort stood up and started to pace the mostly empty room. What was this feeling that poked at him when that pernicious prediction came to mind? Stopping mid-stride, Voldemort dropped the nearly empty glass of wine.

_Was it fear?_

The emotion was foreign to the Dark Lord. Fear was weakness and he was not weak. Fear was death and he had expertly removed that risk from his existence. To fear _words_ was to give them the power of life and death. Voldemort could not let those words continue to have the same strong hold over him.

The boy had to be killed. But which boy?

The Dark Lord had been fine letting the two boys that fit the description from the seer live for a spell to let his equal show himself. It could take years for either to demonstrate which the true target was. Voldemort could not let _fear_ invade his mind for an indeterminate period.

He would kill them both.

All he needed was information on each family. Severus gathered that both families were well-hidden and may be quite difficult to discover. He had said, _"It will take inside information to locate the Longbottoms or Potters." _Based on Severus' knowledge of the Potters, it would be Sirius Black who would know where the Potters hid. Severus had been quite certain of that fact.

Wanting to be thorough, Voldemort pressed his wand to the mark and whispered, "Pettigrew." In a moment the wheezing wizard appeared before him – in pajamas. Letting out a loud gasp, Pettigrew fell flat to the ground in some sort of bow. "Stand up," the Dark Lord said impatiently. He did not have time for theatrics. "You will tell me everything you know about the Potters – where are they? Who can tell me where they live?" Voldemort decided to probe this previously worthless source of information. If he could not produce quality facts, he would die.

"My Lord? You wish to know where the Potters live?" Pettigrew asked with his arms crossed tightly as if giving himself a reassuring hug. Voldemort did not respond to the insipid question but let silence fall between them. Mere moments passed before Pettigrew spoke again, his voice higher than it had been, "I can tell you that, My Lord."

This was preposterous, if Pettigrew knew all along where he could find the Potters, why had he not offered this information? Was the shaking man in front of Voldemort a spy against _him_? "Why haven't you brought me this information sooner?" Voldemort asked with a cool tone that masked his rising fury.

"I did not know it was of value to you, My Lord," Pettigrew said with a squeak. Voldemort recognized the fear in Pettigrew's eyes. It was the same fear he wore whenever confronted by his own stupidity. How dense was the man to think that the whereabouts of two people his master tried to kill was unimportant?

As dense as Pettigrew was the answer. "You are a fool," Voldemort said raising his wand in anger. He would not kill Pettigrew for his stupidity, not yet at least. The Dark Lord soon dismissed Pettigrew to be alone with his new thoughts and hatching plan.

No one could know the idea that was forming in Voldemort's mind. He would slip in undetected and unexpected. Surely the family would have a second if not third layer of protection. _When_ was the best time to kill the boy though? The date should be significant – a powerfully magic date. Ah, Halloween, the most sacred of nights to perform magic.

The house had been easier to penetrate than Voldemort expected. The naive couple had trusted their treacherous friend implicitly. Killing James had been too easy. Unarmed and distracted by the wellbeing of this family, it had been a mere moment before the familiar curse left Voldemort's lips. Lily chose the life of her son over her own. The sacrifice she made was a needless gesture that was quite lost on Voldemort.

The Dark Lord stepped over the woman toward the fussing baby. _This tiny person was the cause of so much fear and anxiety? _With a surge of relief Voldemort cast familiar curse. He had expected the curse to remove the boy and his fear from existence. Instead of fear being extinguished from his mind it hit him tenfold with an obliterating intensity. Fear was his death.

A/N: This is my first time looking at Voldemort as a main character. Aaaah, it was fun and challenging. Next chapter is Snape!


	4. Snape

I will face my fear.

-Frank Herbert, Litany against Fear

Cold autumn air whipped around the death eater as he approached his rendezvous point. His assignment was to truthfully lie about his news on the Order and wheedle what he could about the Dark Lord's activity. Today Snape was to meet Rabastan Lestrange to exchange information. _This_ Lestrange was less of a threat than the other two who were both more vicious and better legilimens. The meeting was to be at a neutral location – the apothecary in Diagon Alley. Many death eater meetings took place in the public's eye. No one looked twice at anyone these days, let alone two blokes conversing over potions ingredients.

Snape entered the odorous shop and made brief eye contact with the shop owner. He had frequented this store long enough for the proprietor to know he liked solace while browsing and would ask for assistance if necessary. When the bell at the door tinkled to announce a new customer, Snape did not look around. Sickles to galleons said it was Lestrange. The quickly squelched, "Good afterno-" from the pudgy man behind the counter confirmed Snape's suspicion.

Soon Snape heard a quiet, "Stocking up?" Rabastan examining a vial of rose oil next to Snape. "You have news, I take it?" Rabastan muttered quietly.

"Only that the werewolf Lupin has been cast out by his _friends_," Snape said relishing the truth behind his words. "He may be a good candidate to recruit as a spy." The last part was far from the truth but the lie tasted sweet in his mouth.

Rabastan looked quite unimpressed by this information. "Is that all?" he asked barely concealing his disappointment with the information. "Let's walk outside," Rabastan suggested with a move toward the door.

Placing his items on the shelf where they had been talking, Severus followed Lestrange outside and into a small alley next to the apothecary. Catching up to the tall dark-haired man, Snape grabbed the arm of his robes. "Do you think Dumbledore and I are bosom buddies?" Snape asked in a sharp whisper. "I've barely managed a place in his staff and am kept away from information of _interest_. You can't expect him to tell me where to find the Potters and Longbottoms over parsnip and gravy, can you?"

The smile that played across Rabastan's face was devious in nature and caused Snape to feel slightly uncomfortable. _What didn't he know?_ "I don't think _they_ will be a problem any longer."

_Keep the mask on_, Snape reminded himself. _Don't show emotion_. "The Dark Lord has found them?" Snape asked with cool indifference.

Shrugging Rabastan said, "I only heard they wouldn't be a problem anymore. There was a worm in their midst" A few moments of silence that had passed before he continued, "I heard it might even be tonight."

Keeping an indifferent look on his face, Snape raised his eyebrows as if to show the impertinence of the information being shared. "The Dark Lord will be one more step towards total control," Severus said forcing a happy look on his face.

"Indeed, he will be," Lestrange said with an incline of his head. "If that is all you have to offer, I will return to my day."

Waiting a moment for Lestrange's footsteps to fade away, Snape leaned against the wall as his mind began to race. Who was _they_? The Longbottoms? No, Dumbledore was their secret keeper. It had to be the Potters. What was he to do? Run and tell Dumbledore that the lying, cheating, no-good Black turned his best friend in? For a person who was ensconced in both sides of the wizarding war, Snape felt in the dark about information that mattered to him.

It was too risky to run to Dumbledore with this news – the other death eaters would be monitoring Snape for any overt reaction to news given. The best Snape could do was send Dumbledore a message and trust that he would react in a way that would cost Snape his life unnecessarily.

_Trust_. That ridiculous request Dumbledore made of him. Reliance on Dumbledore made Severus weak. But it had been a moment of the utmost weakness that caused him to turn to his former headmaster for help. He had to save _her_. The only woman, the only person, truly trusted. _Lily_.

Back at his humble home, Snape threw books from their shelves and let out a short yell of frustration. Only in the solitude of Spinner's End could Severus express the emotion he continuously fought. A phoenix cry let him know that Dumbledore's reply had been delivered. It simply said there was not other evidence of danger for the Potters or Longbottoms. Snape sank into the lonely couch in his sitting room. The undertone of Dumbledore's message was clear – _stay put, no not interfere_. Severus did not know where Lily was being hid. He had guesses of course – Godric's Hollow was at the top of likely locations for the _Potters_ to hide. That is where the spoiled James had been raised. Without realizing it, his head was buried in his hands as he tried to decide what to do.

_Was Rabastan telling the truth? Was the Dark Lord making a move against the Potters tonight?_ Standing up feeling frustration and powerlessness, Snape paced the small room. "Dammit, Black!" he shouted to the otherwise vacant house. The arrogant man's one redeemable quality had been his loyalty but even that was rotted out of him. No one had told Snape Black was the secret keeper for Lily. Some facts were obvious to the least astute of observers and Severus was anything if sharp.

Closing his eyes, Snape allowed himself to dwell on the woman whose safety he was fretting at the moment. He had lost the love of the woman with those enchanting green eyes but he could not stand to live in a world where she did not exist. Severus lost her with his obsession with the dark arts and inability to see beyond blood status. The idea of losing her had been enough to turn the Half-Blood Prince into a traitor against his kind.

If this was the night that the Dark Lord was going after the Potter brat there was one small thread of hope. That hope lay in the seed of an idea Severus dropped to his master to spare Lily. A powerful witch like her could be an asset to the Dark Lord and his followers. He had only to convince her to consider his offer. Snape knew it was a longshot, nearly impossible to think Lily would turn. Not after he kills her son. But if she did… that would be Severus' opening, his chance to show Lily what a good partner he could be. _They could be happy._

Snape was nearly immobilized in his house. The overwhelming array of possibilities He had been instructed to stay in but could his heart bear to not know? If this wasn't the night, what was the harm in strolling through Godric's Hollow? Snape could easily remain unseen. Deciding that he did fancy a walk through the historic streets of the wizarding community, Snape grabbed his cloak and disapparted.

It was past nightfall and the streets were buzzing slightly. With panic Snape hurried toward the crowd but stopped a ways out. There was a house in ruins. Muggles were crowding in front of the house. Snape cast a disillusionment charm on himself to move closer. Catching words of, "Don't know that anyone lived there," from a bloke told Snape that he was looking at what had been Lily's house. _Who had the fidelius charm been cast with?_ Likely it was James as it had been his treacherous best friend to safeguard their location. _All the visible house meant was that James was dead._

Taking the sliver of hope, Snape stumbled past the unseeing muggles, through the neat garden, and into the ajar door. James' body was in the entryway. Indifferent to his former schoolmate's death, Severus called softly to the house, "Lily!"

Moments of silence turned into minutes. All Snape could hear was the sound of muggles authorities clearing away the crowd. Snape closed his eyes straining to hear. He was hesitant to move further into the house. _What if he saw her dead?_ Using all the courage he possessed in the moment, Severus took a step up the stairs. He could not see any bedrooms on the first level of the house. Each step pitted him with fear.

Clearing the top of the stairs, Severus felt he had scaled a mountain of terror and loathing. Each step took him closer to either his impossible dream or worst nightmare. "Lily?" Snape called again hoping to have a response. There was a soft cry down the hall but nothing of the sweet voice he desired to hear. If any sound were to draw out his love, it would have been her child's cry. No coos or calming noises came from the room.

Snape sank to his knees feeling quite unable to move forward. He could not face it – his hope had left the world. Tears began fill Severus' eyes. What did he have to live for now? A surge of determination to know, to see…

The sight that met Snape in the child's room cause a piece of his life to end. She was dead, no more. Severus wanted to be dead too – there was nothing in the world for him if she was not also there. He was lost and felt a fear he hadn't experienced before. What did a life without Lily mean? Could he face each day knowing that she would never again speak with her kind voice?

Outside Severus heard a mechanical roar and saw a bright light shine in through the window. _Black owned that muggle contraption._ Snape stood up abruptly wanting to run out and murder the lying treacherous man. He was halfway down the stairs before he paused. _Would he look guilty if he and Black were both dead at the scene?_ It grudged Severus to admit it, but a duel between them would likely end in both their deaths.

In his anger and hatred, Snape decided on the slow revenge. One that would take years perhaps but his knife would be detectable in Black's demise. Instead of a fast death to end his pain, Snape would face a lifetime without another chance to see Lily's beautiful face or her mesmerizing eyes. As he heard a cry of "James!" from downstairs, Severus disapparated to his home feeling despair and tragedy.


	5. Sirius

I will permit [fear] to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

-Frank Herbert, Litany against Fear

With his head titled up toward the starry sky above, Sirius watched the two last things he cared about in the world leave him forever – his godson Harry and his motorbike. The clock was ticking, he had to find the rat before Magical Law Enforcement, or worse his friends, arrived. Sirius looked on the ruined house for a moment more before saying, "Goodbye, Prongs."

Sirius returned to his flat and paced the length of his sitting room trying to marshal his thoughts. Dumbledore's message that night to check on the others had set Sirius on edge. Finding Peter's tiny flat cleared out caused a slight panic to rise in his chest. The sight of James and Lily's house ruined and full of death had nearly stopped Sirius' heart. Between the horror of losing his best friend and realizing that _he_ would be the target of suspicion and revenge, Sirius felt all hope had left the world forever. _Where is Peter hiding?_ He needed to find his wormy friend.

In the hours that passed Sirius cycled through numb disbelief, rage, and sobbing fits of incoherent mumbling. He was not stable nor was he thinking clearly as the night brought him through horror and back – Sirius was unable to completely lose himself in grief or pull himself together. He was stuck in a forsaken emotional wasteland. The only thought that rang true was that he needed to find Peter. Sirius needed to avenge his friends but he didn't want to do it alone. If only he could go to Moony for help… but Remus would see Sirius as the killer. _Why didn't they tell others Peter was the secret keeper?_

By the time the sun rose the next morning, he had a plan. It wasn't well-formed and would likely fail but Sirius was going to find Peter starting with his flat and moving to places Peter may think to go. Sirius wished he had paid more attention to the habits of his former-friend. Remus was the ever-observant person who could have listed at least eight potential hideouts for the worm. _Remus is gone too_. _There is no one left_.

Peter's flat was the same as it had been the previous evening when Sirius stopped in to check on his former friend. Most of his personal effects were gone. There wasn't anything about the emptiness that hinted at a destination for Peter. Sirius did find a letter from Peter's mum dated a few weeks ago. _Would he hide with his mummy?_ Deciding that the Lewisham borough of London, where Sirius remembered Pettigrew saying he grew up, would be as good a place to start as any, Sirius left the abandoned flat.

Sirius did not find Peter in his search, instead the worm cornered the dog. Not at all up to his usual standards of wand-work, Sirius found himself bamboozled and tricked by his usually clumsy and bumbling quarry. The entire situation seemed like a joke to Sirius. The explosion Peter caused in his escape barely registered as Sirius let out a low carrying laugh. "Peter, I'll find you," Sirius muttered as bits of debris floating through the air. _How had Peter bested Sirius Black?_ Sirius closed his eyes and imagined what James would have said at this.

"_Did you have your wand on you when this happened?" James' voice drifted through Sirius' imagination. _

"_Of course I had my wand. I also remembered to wear pants today," Sirius retorted to his friend's voice. _

"_Wouldn't be the first time you've gone out underdressed," James reminded him. Even in death, a faint smile could be heard in James' voice. "Back to this business about Wormtail getting the better of you… were you beguiling a pretty witch at the time?"_

_Sirius grinned at no one in particular. "Haven't seen a pretty witch in quite a while, mate," Sirius told his dead friend's voice. "I might just be having an off day. It's not every day my best friend dies."_

Magical Law Enforcement had arrived and were closing in on Sirius. His smile and conversation with no one unnerved many of them as they approached. Sirius was muttering and laughing to himself as one of them, a broad-shouldered blonde bloke, disarmed the incoherent suspect and bound his hands together. Suddenly, as if surprised by their presence, Sirius yelled, "Peter! It was _Peter!_" The laugh that left his lips was manic and disturbed the wizard holding Sirius. How could someone laugh with all of the bodies dead in the street?

With a jolt, Sirius drew himself out of the conversation he was having with James. He had explained to his friend about his death and evident betrayal and was just about to ask if Lily was there when a jerk to his arm let Sirius know he wasn't alone. Looking around he could see that he was in a street crawling with Ministry employees. He was bound and gagged with his wand no longer in his hand. _There will be a chance to explain._ Sirius knew the process for cycling through those accused of helping Voldemort. There would be a hearing and he would get a chance to explain what happened, how they switched. Of course this would mean convincing Dumbledore. The headmaster's trust often meant freedom and pardon for those who were otherwise untrustworthy in the eyes of the wizarding world. _Would Dumbledore hear the truth?_

Sirius drifted into melancholy and next reached a moment of clarity in a cold dark room. _Was it Azkaban?_ No, certainly not. There hadn't been a trial yet – _had there?_ Sirius' mind was overwhelmed with grief and loathing. He felt the fool for suggesting they use Peter as Secret Keeper. It had been his assurance that Peter was the safer choice that convinced James to switch. Sirius stood up and started to pace the mostly dark room he was in. It was about the size of a broom cupboard. A flash of memory hit Sirius – it was of hiding in a broom cupboard with James the first of what would be many times. Sadness and loss threatened to drown the young man. He took refuge in a conversation with James.

"_You're locked in a broom cupboard?" James' voice came to him from a distance now. "And you're not trying to snog a girl?" James had always teased Sirius for his barely earned reputation of being a witch chaser. One or two girlfriends and the entire school thought Sirius was some sort of Casanova. Pride and, well, just pride stopped Sirius from trying to set the record straight._

"_There's a definite lack of snogging here, Prongs," Sirius told his friend. Even in the worst of situations, James and Sirius used humor to open up before going onto harder subjects. "I think I'm being charged with murder. There were dead muggles in that street."_

"_They'll check your wand and you'll be free as a doxy." A few moments passed before either of them spoke. "Sirius, will you watch out for Harry?"_

_Sirius took a moment to run his hand through the dark, shoulder-length hair he had once treasured before trying to respond. "I'll do whatever it takes to be a good godfather," Sirius said without really knowing what that would entail. "I'll make sure he plays quidditch and that he doesn't waste his time studying when he could be-"_

"_Hiding in a broom cupboard with his best mate?" James offered. Sirius laughed good-naturedly and sat back down on the cold stone floor. "I'm going to miss you," James said quietly. _

"_I don't want to be alone," Sirius confided to the voice in his head. "Will you stay with me? _

"_This is your head, Padfoot. I'll probably be here as long as you keep me."_

There was a bang at the door. Sirius looked towards the noise and felt unsure what he should do. A crisp voice met his ears, "Stay back from the door. We have ten aurors with their wands pointed at the entrance." Sirius stayed where he was as the door opened to reveal what seemed to be the brightest light to ever burn into his eyes. "You are being transferred to Azkaban," the man said from the doorway.

"What about my trial?" Sirius asked feeling his stomach lurch. _There had to be a trial._ "I need to speak to Dumbledore!"

"The evidence against you in insurmountable, Black. You will not waste the Wizengamot's time with whatever pointless story you've concocted."

Sirius felt his body go rigid. At first he thought it was out of fear but then realized that he had been put into a full body bind curse. Two of the wizards came forward to drag Sirius out of his cell. The brief glimpses Sirius had as he was being taken away told him he had been in the Ministry. Sirius felt the eerie cold ebb toward him before he saw the gaggle of dementors. If he had been in control of his body, a scream would have left his mouth when one of the creatures grabbed his arm.

The fear that washed over him was unlike anything else Sirius had felt before. He was going to be taken away and left to rot. He would never have a family and never again spend lazy afternoons discussing quidditch with his friends. He was going to alone. The only steadying thought he had as the swarm of dementors circled their new guest was that the certainty he felt of his innocence.

Innocence turned out to be a nasty friend in Azkaban. It was not a happy thought nor was one of solace. Sirius was alone, trapped on an island, and surrounded by hooded terrors. That was enough to make any person out of their mind with fear. Sirius wasn't sure what he was supposed to experience while in this most menacing of prisons but he did not feel the same all-consuming terror the others seemed to exude. Most spend their time screaming as if living through their worst moments. Sirius felt his mind slipping away but was not engulfed in horrific visions of the past.

After a period, Sirius wasn't quite sure how long it had been, he felt on the verge of subsuming to the terror and giving himself to fear as others had. He wasn't sure why he had not lost his sense of self as others who came after him did in a matter of hours. _What was it that caused hardened criminals to moan and cry?_ A sudden thought crossed into Sirius' mind. Maybe he wasn't being impacted like the other prisoners. _They still had hope._ Sirius had felt that emotion leave his body when he bade farewell to his best mate and godson.

Curiosity took hold of Sirius days later. If he wasn't going mad, or had gone there and was quite at his ease with it, could he still do magic? Sirius hadn't attempted magic without his wand before. Children do their first magic without a wand, surely an adult could figure it out. Sirius practiced the most basic spells to begin. It was painful to struggle once again with magic that he and James had struggled with together. He felt each spell was a burning reminder that his friend was indeed gone. After failing to so much as levitate a pebble, Sirius finally managed the simple spell.

The ability to do magic gave him drive to maintain some of his mind and most of his power. He could stay strong and work up to becoming the dog again. As the dog he could let the encroaching terror pass over him like fog over water.

Sirius tracked time by how many prisoners died. It took him six deaths to turn into the big black dog. Feeling his canine self was a welcome reprieve from the constant emotional assault he felt from the prison guards. It soon became clear to Sirius that they could not tell the difference between a mad wizard and an animal. _They might be almost the same thing._ Surely the dementors would have noticed when they passed that a black dog occupied his cell.

The full moon always pushed Sirius' mind to his only living friend. Longing to see Remus again, the thought of escape flitted across the prisoner's mind. Sirius quickly pushed the thought aside. Surely freedom would cause that emotion the dementors were so quick to feast on. Deciding that cowardice would never suit the Gryffindor, Sirius let his mind roam back to that elusive thought. With his magical abilities still intact and the dementor's inability to closely track him as a dog, Sirius could leave and make his way back to England.

_Where would he go?_ Surely all his gold was being held in a security hold. Dumbledore may kill the accused traitor. Remus may do worse than kill him. Harry, was a child and wouldn't know who he was. The idea of freedom was not a happy thought. The ability to be free but not being able to enjoy freedom with the people he cared for was more confining than the cell that kept him prisoner. It was this thought that beckoned James back to Sirius.

"_You could go into hiding," James offered without true conviction in his voice._

"_I'm practically in hiding here," Sirius reminded his friend's ethereal voice. "I don't see the point in breaking out just to be on the run."_

_James took a few moments to reply. Sirius could picture his oldest friend tussling his hair in thought. The image was bitter in his mind's eye. "You need proof that you're innocent," James offered. _

_With a sigh Sirius started on the explanation he'd been giving himself about Peter's evident disappearance, "I know that git is not the brightest wand at Ollivanders, but he's been smart about this charade he's pulling off. Wormtail must be hiding or else they'd know I didn't kill him."_

"_Then it's obvious. You have to wait him out," James said with a touch of impatience. "You're safe here – well, the dementors aren't harming you like they have others. Once you break out you'll be hunted." _

"_I don't know if I can be here, be trapped, waiting for the traitor to make a mistake," Sirius said with his face buried in his hands. "How can I help Harry if I'm slowly wasting away in this cell?" he said hoping that mention of his son would push James into encouraging his escape. _

"_**When**__ Harry needs his godfather, you'll find a way to be there. I know you will. Padfoot, you were there for me through the best years of my life. You'll do whatever it takes for him," James spoke these words with such confidence and conviction that Sirius felt his eyes moistened and sting. _

"_I'll wait. For Harry," Sirius confirmed with his friend's voice._

For the first time since James' death, Sirius felt an emotional dangerously close to hope or happiness – it was purpose. He was meant to wait for a sign that he was needed by his godson. Sirius did not know how or when he'd get the signal but he was ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. All he had to do now was wait and follow his path.


	6. Remus

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.

-Frank Herbert

Snow collected slowly on the window sill and a sharp chilling wind blew under the door. It was Christmas day but there were no signs of the holiday in Remus' small house apart from a small sprig of holly on the hearth above the fireplace. The fire's warmth did not fill the house let alone the man seated next to the firing darning his socks. Today was just another lonely day for Remus.

It was a mere two months since Remus' life changed drastically. James and Lily were dead, as was Peter, and Sirius was locked away in Azkaban for murder. Some days it felt surreal for the lone-Marauder to not have his once close family. They had drifted apart over the course of the past year. Remus felt the signs of alienation from the others as it became more evident that there was a spy close to James and Lilly. After all that happened Remus told himself not to be bitter about the unspoken assumptions about him. _Of course it's the werewolf who had the finger of blame._

Despite himself, Remus began to dwell on the injustice of the past year. Sirius the spy had shifted blame to the only other reasonable suspect. It was brilliantly done – the hints that were dropped about an untrustworthy element in the group and the slow withdraw of information. By Harry's first birthday they were sending Remus further away from the others by having him spy on low-level cronies with no real significance to the war.

A scratch at the window pulled Remus out of his acrid memories. Looking over he saw the brown owl his father owned. After a quick wave of his wand and a cold gust of snow, Alfie the owl was on his arm hooting softly. "Got a message from Dad?" Remus asked the familiar bird. "Let's have a look."

The Christmas greeting was short and asked when Remus could visit next. Lyall struggled after his wife's death. Neither he nor Remus knew how to grief for Hope or reestablish the family without her. It was impossible for Remus to visit his father without the crushing weight of his mother's absence. His response back was equally short and said he'd try to visit after the New Year. "Make sure he eats, Alfie," Remus called after the owl as it flew into the snow.

Remus made himself a cup of strong tea, with a touch of firewhiskey, to warm himself with a bit of Christmas cheer. A year ago he had experienced real joy at Christmas. Sirius had James, Lily, Harry, and Peter over to his tiny flat.

They were one another's family on that Christmas day. James and Lily had come over early to help Sirius play host. Sirius had been entertaining Harry in the sitting room while Lily and James made their Christmas dinner in the bachelor's kitchen. When Remus knocked at the door, it opened almost immediately after.

"Say hello to Uncle Remus, Harry!" Sirius said holding the tiny baby towards the door. As Harry began to fuss at the cold air and new person, Sirius called out to James, "Padfoot, he's calling for you!"

"Let me take him," Remus said reaching out for the crying infant. Sirius gladly handed over his godson to Moony. Quickly discarding his jacket and scarf, Remus took Harry and began to coo at him and wished him a Merry Christmas.

Lily was in the doorway from the kitchen and grinned at the two men negotiating her crying son. After a few moments of Remus' consolation, Harry stopped fussing. "We might send him home with you, Remus. You have a knack with children," Lily said with a laugh. "James could do with a break from the middle of the night wake up calls."

"If you failed to notice it, I was entertaining the little bloke all morning without incident," Sirius said in a voice that failed to be casual and off-the-cuff.

"You are good with Harry," Lily said consolingly. "Just not when he starts to cry," she added with a smirk. Lily made her way to Remus and reached for her son. "Here's Mummy's little boy," she said holding Harry close. "Mummy and Daddy are just finishing up dinner. Be good for your uncles." With a kiss Lily handed the giggling baby back to Remus.

The next hour Remus and Sirius entertained Harry with an invigorating game of roll the ball. Remus had to dissuade Sirius from enchanting the ball to fly around the room. "He needs to start practicing quidditch," Sirius insisted reaching for his wand.

"Padfoot, I don't recall reading that any of the nationally ranked quidditch players started before they could walk," Remus said holding onto the ball for a moment.

"That's my point! Imagine how much he'll gain from starting now," without further discussion, Sirius waved his wand causing the ball to start zooming through the room.

Harry's little hands reached up and tried to capture the flying ball. It zoomed past Harry, bounced against the wall, and zoomed into the kitchen where they heard a crash. "Darnit, Padfoot! That was the gravy!" came James' voice.

Remus and Sirius exchanged amused looks before the werewolf said, "Domesticated a bit, hasn't he?"

Another knock at the door announced Peter's arrival. "Sorry for being late!" he called to the flat. "Mum wanted to keep me over as long as she could – you know how she gets," he added with an exasperated look. "Is that dinner I smell?" Peter looked around hopefully as if he hadn't eaten a decent meal in at least two hours.

It wasn't long until dinner. They all sat around the table with plates full of food. James and Lily took turns holding Harry so the other could eat. "Did you hear about that attack –" Peter started but was cut off by Lily clearing her throat.

"Wormy, it's Christmas. Let's not talk about the war," she said softly. It had been friends of hers who were the victims of the death eater attack Peter was on the verge of mentioning. "We deserve an evening without _that_ looming over our heads."

A few moments of slow eating and the occasional sip of wine were all the group needed to find another topic. The truth was that the recent months had only included the war and violence. They often spoke of nothing else. "I read that Puddlemere United is looking for chasers," Remus said to the room at large. "They're doing tryouts in the spring."

"After their performance last season they'll need to get new talent," Sirius managed through a mouthful of mashed parsnips. "Remember that game they played against the Hollyhead Harpies?"

James groaned, "How could I forget? Lily and I had a bet on that game."

"What sort of bet?" Peter asked leaning around Sirius to ask. "Wasn't gold I take it?"

"No, wasn't gold…" James said stabbing his carrots with a bit more vigor than was necessary.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at James' evasiveness. "Did you have to go starkers somewhere? Did she make you comb your hair?" At school, Sirius had always been the one to think of the most outrageous consequences for losing bets and dares.

Remus and Peter laughed. Lily glanced at James before revealing their bet, "He had to –"

"Is this something we'll want to know?" Remus cut her off before hearing something he may not want to remember late at night when he couldn't fall asleep.

"I guess not," Lily said ruffling James' hair. "I can tell you he's become quite the chef."

Sirius gave Remus a significant look and said, "Domesticated. It's what we feared." Laughter filled the room, even James smiled at being the subject of his friends' banter.

Last Christmas they had all been terrified of the war and Voldemort. This Christmas those fears were gone but so were his friends… his family. The previous year they would have traded anything for the war to be over and the fear to be gone. Little did they know that the cost of eradicating fear would be everything they held dear.

As friends, they had never talked through the possibility of one of them dying. James lived in a world of denial where he refused to entertain the idea of anyone he cared for dying. It had been difficult for James to be convinced that he needed to hide. His refusal to see the danger around him cost not just James but all of them to lose everything.

"Why didn't we see it?" Remus said to his empty house. "That black-hearted traitor played us all!" Even if Remus had known for a fact that Sirius was a spy against them, James would not have headed the advice. He was determined to always believe the best in those around him. Even people who little deserved it.

More than anything, Remus wished that any one of his friends were there to say some words of comfort. This would be his new norm for the holidays. He would be alone in this new world without the fear that chased his friends for so long. The thought sent chills through Remus despite the heat radiating from the fire. He knew deep down that he'd never know friendship and community like he did with his friends during the war. They had fought like heroes though. Fought like heroes and died.

_Was it worth it?_ Would Remus exchange the safety and security of the wizarding world for his friends and the fear-filled lives they led? Yes, in a moment, yes.

A/N: This chapter ties closer to the quote at the beginning than a specific fear of Remus'. This focuses on his life in a post war (fear ridden) world. Let me know what you think! While each story was independent, I was trying to tie them together with the war and moments throughout that period.


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